Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

{Melistair}

Melistair took a deep breath as he heard Margaret's footsteps receding into the back of the house. She was hiding, just like he'd told her to.

And Melisa...

Well, Melisa had run off somewhere. He didn't know where, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing he wanted was for his little girl to hear what was about to happen.

[She doesn't need those kinds of memories,] he thought grimly.

He was shaking. Melistair placed his head against the door.

"Melistaaaaair, come on out!" Striker called out. "Or, do you want us to come in and drag you into the streets?"

He was going to, of course. That was all he could do.

Before facing the music, though, Melistair made a detour to the kitchen.

He rummaged through the drawers until his fingers closed around the handle of a large, sharp knife.

[Not much, but it's better than being empty-handed. With any luck, I might be able to take one of those bastards down with me. And, with even more luck, it might just be Striker.]

With a little nod to himself, Melistair walked to the front door and stepped outside.

Striker and his goons were waiting for him, their faces twisted into expressions that promised nothing but pain.

Melistair counted quickly.

Nine men, not including Striker himself.

[Hahaha... You're that worried you'd lose a rematch?] Melistair smiled.

"Alright, Striker," Melistair said, trying to keep his voice steady. "How much do you want this time? Here I thought I made it clear last time we were square."

Striker laughed.

"Oh, Melistair. You poor, stupid bastard. You think this is about the money?"

He stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

"Nah... I just wanna kill you. That's all."

Melistair nodded slowly, his grip tightening on the knife behind his back.

"I see. So that's how it's going to be, huh?"

He brought the knife forward, holding it in front of him like a talisman against evil.

[Gods help me.]

"Well then, come on. Let's get this over with. No need to waste any more of our time with this bullshit."

Striker grinned, a predatory gleam in his eye.

He gestured to his men, and they started to advance, their fists clenched and ready for blood.

But before they could take more than a few steps, a new voice rang out across the yard.

"Stop right there, you cowardly pieces of shit!"

Melistair's head snapped to the side, his eyes widening in shock.

There, walking toward them, was Javir. And by her side, looking equal parts terrified and determined, was Melisa.

---

{Melisa}

Melisa's heart raced as she and Javir approached the scene.

Through all the mean faces and dirty, clenched fists, Melisa's eyes lingered on her father.

As they drew near, Striker's gaze shifted to Javir, looking surprised, though that did nothing to ease away the bloodlust in his eyes.

"A human..." he muttered, his brow furrowing. "Listen, lady, you'd best turn around and walk away. This doesn't concern you."

But Javir just smiled. Melisa hadn't seen her make a face like that. Cold and dangerous. Maybe she'd made the same face in the forest but at that time she'd been too distracted trying to spot the "shadow mages" Javir had talked about.

"Oh, I think it does," she said, her hand resting casually on the hilt of her sword. "You see, you're threatening my friends. And I don't take kindly to that."

Striker scoffed, shaking his head.

"Friends? That deadbeat over there?" He jerked his chin towards Melistair. "This is about a debt he owes to the Syndicate. It's got nothing to do with you."

Melisa felt a surge of anger, her fists clenching at her sides.

"That's not true!" she shouted, her voice ringing out across the street. "My dad paid you! He gave you the money, fair and square!"

[Are there no guards in this place!?] Melisa asked, looking around. [Are they all seriously just ignoring this???]

"Even if that wasn't the case," Javir added, eyes narrowed, "since when does the Syndicate need ten men to collect from one person? Seems a bit excessive, don't you think?"

Striker glared at her, his face twisting into an ugly sneer.

"Fine," he spat, turning to face Javir fully. "If you want to die alongside this piece of shit, be my guest."

Just like that, he charged forward, his fist cocked back and ready to strike Melistair.

But Javir was faster.

With a flick of her wrist and hushed words, she cast the same vine spell she'd used against the kitsune in the forest. The green tendrils burst from the ground, wrapping around Striker's legs and sending him crashing to the dirt.

Striker struggled against the vines.

He looked at his men and nodded at Javir.

"Get her!"

Immediately, Srtriker's men started moving toward Javir and Melisa.

Javir did not hesitate.

Melisa watched in awe as Javir took a step back, weaving spellsigns in the air and murmuring incantations under her breath.

A barrage of spells launched out from her hands before Melisa could even process it.

Three of the men went down in quick succession, their bodies crumpling to the ground as Javir's flames found their mark.

But the remaining six got just a bit too close.

[There's too many of them!] Melisa realized, her heart pounding in her chest. [Even Javir can't take on that many at once!]

Without a second thought, Melisa stepped up beside her teacher.

"Melisa, get back!" Javir cried out but Melisa ignored her.

She wasn't about to risk misfiring by using one of the fancier spells she'd just learned. Instead, she used the one she'd used the last time she'd interacted with these degenerates.

The one she made.

"Illumi, nerca, var fal!" she cried, her voice ringing out through the chaos.

A brilliant blue flame burst from her hands, arcing through the air and slamming into one of the approaching men.

He screamed in pain, his clothes igniting as he fell to the ground.

Javir flinched.

Then, her head snapped towards Melisa, her eyes wide with shock.

"Melisa, what-"

But there was no time for questions right now.

Out of the corner of her eye, Melisa saw her father locked in combat with Striker, who had managed to slip out of the vines and was now trading blows with Melistair.

[Dad!]

Melisa took off running, her feet pounding against the dirt as she raced towards her father.

Melisa's heart leaped into her throat as she watched Striker land a solid punch on her father, sending him stumbling backwards.

Melistair's knife clattered to the ground, and before he could regain his footing, Striker was on him, pinning him down with his weight, not even seeming to recognize how cut and bruised he was.

[No!]

Without hesitation, Melisa aimed her hand at Striker, the words of her spell already on her lips.

"Illumi, nerca, var fal!"

The blue flame shot towards Striker, but to Melisa's horror, he managed to duck at the last moment, the fire going right over his head.

Striker stood up, his eyes locking onto Melisa with a fury that made her blood run cold.

"You little bitch," he snarled, taking a step towards her. "I'm gonna make you pay for what you did to me the other night."

Melisa's mind raced, trying to think of another spell, anything to keep him away.

But before Striker could take another step, a familiar voice rang out.

"Radix, ligare, vinculum!"

Vines burst from the ground once more, wrapping around Striker's legs and arms, holding him in place.

Javir stood there, her hand outstretched. Behind her, Melisa saw the bodies of Strikers' allies sprawled out across the street.

[Nice!]

Melisa didn't waste the opportunity. She aimed her hand at Striker again, the blue flame bursting forth and slamming into his chest.

Striker howled in pain, struggling against his bonds.

And then, Melistair was there, tackling Striker to the ground. He rained blow after blow down on the loan shark's face, a lifetime of anger and fear fueling each punch.

After what felt like an eternity, Melistair stopped, his chest heaving and his knuckles bruised and bloody.

"Bastard..." Melistair raised his hand again. "I should-"

"You probably should," Javir told him, before he could throw that next punch. "But, as much as I'd love to see that, doing so would only put a target on your back. Even if you explain to the Syndicate what happened, they wouldn't stop until you were in jail, or worse. We won, let him go."

Melistair looked back and forth between Javir and Striker.

Then, finally, though he was cut and bruised, Melistair got off him.

"Fine."

Striker lay beneath him, his face a ruined mess, barely conscious.

It was over. They had won.

Melisa felt her knees go weak with relief, and she would have fallen if Javir hadn't caught her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"It's alright," Javir murmured, stroking Melisa's hair. "It's done. You're safe now."

Melisa clung to her teacher, tears streaming down her face as the adrenaline drained away, leaving her shaking and exhausted.

But beneath the fear and the fatigue, there was a flicker of pride, of satisfaction.

[We did it,] she thought, a small smile tugging at her lips. [Dad's safe. Oh, thank god, dad's safe.]